Red Visions of Green
by Phoenix Lumen
Summary: In a bar, an eleven year old girl drops a glass. It hits the floor. It smashes. Juice splashes everywhere. The girl hits the floor. There is blood. Then there is uproar. AU, visions, non descriptive Mikoto/Reisi, Yata/Fushimi (Please excuse any incorrect genres, or suggest correct in a review)
1. The Vision That Changes Everything

In a bar, an eleven year old girl drops a glass. It hits the floor. It smashes. Juice splashes everywhere. The girl hits the floor. There is blood.

Then there is uproar.

_K_

The visions hit her so suddenly it's like changing the channel on the tv. One second she is holding a glass of apple juice, sipping from it as she looks up at Mikoto, the next she is overlooking a battle, so _many_ swords in the sky; crumbling red, shimmering blue, strong white, sun-kissed gold.

Perfect green. Pale green.

Mikoto's eyes.

Unexpectedly, without her marbles, she _knows_ colour.

_K_

A sword falls. There is a crater.

A sword falls. There is no crater; there is a red hand, glasses, red stars in the sky.

A sword doesn't fall. The country is at war.

A sword doesn't fall. The country is at peace.

_K_

There is a flash of light. Swirls of red and blue mix and separate, combining with cool green, translucent white, burnished gold. Interchanging, intertwining. The red and blue _always_ meet and divide, and as the green swirls around them, ever tightening its spiral, the two fail to separate, eventually spiralling together like a helix. The green weaves around the two so completely, that even if the red and blue wished, they could not be parted.

The white and gold form their own helix, floating nearby, in their own very wide spiral around the other three, but never encroach upon the apparently designated space.

It's so beautiful she feels like crying.

Other images flash into her head, varying in length, in colour, in emotion.

_K_

A large group in the HOMRA bar, the fighting men of the clan drinking with their friends. There are friendly arguments that occasionally become worse. Red flames flicker through the air. The arguments dissipate with the use of their King's power. The men are listening to the music from a recently installed jukebox. It plays classic pub music, somewhat slow at times, lyrics too low to comprehend.

Anna knows this image very well, it being a common sight to her eyes for many months.

_K_

A large group in the HOMRA bar, the fighting men of the clan drinking with their friends, lovers, fiancés and wives about them. There are friendly arguments that occasionally become worse. Red flames and blue lightning flicker through the air. The arguments dissipate with the use of the King's power. Various people are singing along to the music from a recently installed jukebox. It plays recent music, Anna being vaguely familiar with the current one from hearing it on the radio. Pairs and trios are dancing in a cleared area of the bar. There are differences in dance styles between friends and lovers. She can't help but blush.

There are flashes of the bluecoats of SCEPTRE4 in her peripheral vision. Mikoto, red wisps of intangible flame as his aura, is sitting on his couch; Munakata Reisi, the Blue King, sitting next to him, blue sparks zapping off him. There is a woman on the floor, between Mikoto's left leg and Munakata's right, glowing green.

All three are laughing.

They are a triangle, they are equilibrium.

_K_

The vision changes; running along the street, splashing through growing puddles, broken buildings all around her. It is thundering. There is a broken skateboard on the ground. She stops hastily, skidding on wet pavement at the alley entrance. Blood pools around her feet. Yata-san is dead, eyes frozen wide. Fushimi-san is next to him, collapsed against the wall, deep pants escaping him as he clutches a hand to a wound on his stomach. His other hand is holding Yata-san's.

None of their enemies are left alive.

Fushimi-san dies with a smile on his face. In death, his body collapses towards Yata-san's.

She is standing at a graveside, a large crowd of red and blue auras around her. The coffins are beside each other, flowers coating the ground directly between and around them. The shattered pieces of a skateboard rest on top of one, the still blood-stained sword atop the other.

_K_

A distortion in the air, and suddenly she is running along the street, splashing through growing puddles, broken buildings all around her. It is thundering. There is a broken skateboard on the ground. She stops hastily, skidding on wet pavement at the alley entrance.

Blood does not pool around her feet.

The alley is filled with colour, red flames shooting through the air in one direction as blue lightning slices in another. Green water forms a shield as the popping of gun-shots sounds between bursts of thunder. A splash of blood against a wall as a bullet grazes the right arm of the blue-coat, causing his sword to fall. Red fills the air, and bodies burn beyond cinders, beyond ash, as green envelopes the wound. The green fades, the wound is gone.

The only thing occupying the alley now are the red, blue and green fighters. The metal trash cans, dumpsters, black rubbish filled sacks, empty boxes, all are gone. Except the sword.

Yata-san shakes once, twice, then his eyes roll back into his skull as he collapses forwards. The green woman catches him with ease, picks him up, slings him over one shoulder as she pulls Fushimi-san off the floor, letting him use her other arm as a walking aide. The dropped sword is collected, sheathed in its holster. The few remaining remnants of the skateboard, mostly the metal parts, are picked up with a scrap of fabric, too hot to touch with bare fingers.

Then there is a bed, Yata-san in the middle, beanie flung onto a dresser top as the green woman curls into him on one side and Fushimi, blue-coat draped over a chair back and sword resting against the bedside table, spoons around Yata-san. The three are all asleep.

Munakata-san, Mikoto, and _their_ green woman are standing in the open doorway; she rests her head against Mikoto's shoulder even as she intertwines her fingers with Munakata-san's.

_K_

For the next she-doesn't-know-how-long, her visions are paired up, lasting seconds, lasting years. Red and blue, then red and blue _and _green. In a rare few, the green only pairs up with one of the colours, and other colour flickers, dies out; the two remaining colours are weaker for it. Once or twice the red and blue try to oppose the green. It doesn't work out well; only white and gold endure.

The clan lives, the clan dies, Mikoto lives, Mikoto dies. Everyone lives, everyone dies. Peace, war. Love, hate.

Red and blue and green, red and blue.

Weddings at temples, weddings at churches, hospital maternity wards, paediatrics wards. Red hair and blue eyes, blue hair and green eyes. Blessings at temples, first days at school, music lessons, dance lessons, combat lessons. Days at the fair, at the circus, the aquarium, the zoo. Picnics in the park, barbeques, lunch-time swimming sessions and family dinners. Jubilant laughter fills the air frequently.

Funerals at temples, funerals at churches, hospital morgues, intensive care units. Red hair and green eyes. Blue hair and blue eyes. Prayers at temples for the dying, for the dead. There are no first days at school, no days at the fair or the zoo, no picnics in the park. The only barbeques are the burning of the flesh of their enemies. Laughter is rare these days.

It's enough to make a girl bipolar.

_K_

But how? And why? Where was the split, the divide? Where was the separation in the trousers of time, _when_ was it? What was the choice that gave them the green? That made them lose it?

The air distorts. The scene is somewhat familiar to Anna, mainly because it's what was happening before she passed out, mostly. The same song is playing, but she's on the floor, Mikoto turning her body over as flecks of blood fall down her temple and left cheek from implanted glass. The bar is frozen, then loud beyond comprehension as everyone rushes towards the pair.

This must be what an outer-body experience feels like.

She watches for a few minutes as the bar is cleared by Kusanagi-san, as Yata-san brings over a basin of water as others follow behind him with various implements. Then Mikoto is slowly tweezing slivers of glass out of her face, dropping them into a bowl, then wiping an alcohol-saturated cotton ball over the cut. His face is stoic as she unconsciously winces with every wipe.

A few minutes pass whilst every piece is removed, a hand shaking her hair to loosen any potential hidden pieces. Anna watches, unseen, as the eyes of her body twitch as though she is waking up. It is most disconcerting.

The ghost-like Anna is the only one to see the woman enter the bar, piece of paper in hand. No, not the woman, but _the _woman. The green woman who so casually sat at the Red and Blue King's feet.

Soon enough though, her Red Kinsman catch sight of the newcomer, shouting at her to get out. She lets go of the paper in her rush to get away from the shouting, behaviour so different from what Anna has seen of her in all her visions. There is no sign of the warrior queen that both Mikoto and Munakata-san had addressed her as. No sight of the warrior queen Anna has seen her be.

Mikoto picks up her body, various clan members trailing behind him as he takes her upstairs to rest. Someone picks up the folded piece of paper, depositing it on the bar, before following the others upstairs without reading it.

Five minutes later, Kusanagi-san reappears, and is sweeping up the leftover glass on the floor before he notices the paper on the bar-top. She watches him read it and blanch, before dropping it back onto the wooden surface and running upstairs calling for Mikoto.

Well, with visions, she was practically designed to be inquisitive.

"_Suoh, there is danger within SCEPTRE4 currently. My superiors are most displeased with my efforts to diminish the Red. This woman is important however; we believe her to be capable of becoming the first Coloured Queen. My superiors have made their…desires….for her most evident, but it is my…belief….that they would not be beneficial to either SCEPTRE4's or HOMRA's future. Guard her well Suoh, whilst her power matures, for I fear the future of HOMRA and SCEPTRE4 rest on her untested shoulders. There will be repercussions most dire for all of us if any ill happens to her. Munakata."_

She is barely two blocks away from the HOMRA bar. The woman is collapsed in an alley. Her eyes are glazed white, eyelids fixed open. Various bones are broken, shards of white poking up through blood drenched skin. White fluids mixed with blood trickle down her thighs underneath her mostly raised skirt. A pair of black and red panties lies discarded by a rubbish bin. The men are zipping up trousers, collecting dropped weapons, chortling to one another. The green woman's broken body is thrown into a nearby dumpster, the lid closing with a final thump. A Queen, thrown away like trash. The sky weeps.

Anna cries at the sight, sliding unseen against a wall, then down to her knees, but through her tears manages to glare at the men, making sure to memorise their faces. She'll make them pay, make _sure_ they pay for this.

_K_

She blinks, and opens her eyes to darkness. There is shouting, yelling at someone to get out. Oh wait, her eyes aren't open. Her world fills with red. A tear falls from her left eye, down her temple and into her ear and then her hair.

"Wait!" It barely escapes her mouth. There is mayhem as her sudden awakening causes the bar to erupt in noise focused in her direction. She doesn't hear the woman run out.

It takes a minute, dodging questions left, right and centre as her eyes look through trousered legs for those beautiful shoes that the woman was wearing.

"Where…" Her mouth is dry. "Where is she?"

"Who Anna?"

"The woman."

"Oh, don't worry about her Anna-chan, we got rid of her!"

"Yeah!"

"You fucking idiots!" The bar quietens rapidly. Anna doesn't call names, no matter what she's picked up from them over time. She doesn't swear. She certainly doesn't shout. On a bad day, she might frown, heck, on a good day, she barely smiles.

"After her! Turn right, two blocks, alleyway. Help her! And bring them back here, _alive_!" The last word, practically snarled out, is accompanied by a push of red, her eyes turned into flame as glasses around the room explode dramatically.

The room empties hastily, men practically falling over one another to push themselves through the door to escape. Kusanagi absent-mindedly brings over a shot of vodka for Mikoto to drink. Before Mikoto can stop her, she grabs it and downs it shot with ease, to the raised eyebrows of both men.

"Anna-chan, what did you see?"

She stares at them with blank eyes, folding herself onto Mikoto's lap, face in the crook of his neck as she breathes in his scent, his warm aura surrounding her. Silently, his neck grows warm with tears and drops of blood.

_K_

It takes ten minutes, ten _very _tense minutes, before there is movement beyond the darkened windows of the HOMRA bar. There is yelling, crying, someone shouting to be let go. There is thudding, whacking, then relative silence. The door opens.

Most of them are walking upright when they re-enter the bar; one is limping with the assistance of another and is swiftly seated. There ends up being five bodies on the floor in front of Mikoto and Anna.

But her eyesight has reverted back to its normal state; she can't see colour anymore. She doesn't know which is which. She ends up whispering in the ear of Mikoto, whose minute facial expressions speak words to his Kinsmen, speak volumes to his closer brothers.

The five, well, four (one is unconsciously sprawled out) forcibly kneeling on the floor are ready to start shouting, screaming, to try and fight back again, despite the odds already displayed to them. One of them suddenly knows where he is. He shuts up. Unfortunately, he's the ring-leader, and his minions have clocked on to his changed behaviour; their boss is staring at the red-haired man most apprehensively, unlike how he behaves any other hour of the day.

The red-head is important. The red-head is in charge.

The door creaks open again. A lower level Clansman walks in first, then a faintly blushing Yata follows him, carrying the woman in his arms. A third man is carrying Yata's bat and skateboard. Anna's eyes rapidly look over the woman; there is a faint cut on her cut which is bleeding shallowly, but otherwise she looks rather well, except for the fact she's been crying and is passed out in Yata-san's arms.

Anna gestures for the woman to be brought over to the couch, and the eyes of the men kneeling in front of her widen. It appears _she's_ the one in charge. Yata walks over, and as Anna gets off of Mikoto, she makes sure the woman's body rests securely against him. She ignores the stiffening of Mikoto's body even as an arm comes up to secure the woman to him, all the sharp glances, the inquisitive eyes.

Mikoto will keep the green woman safe, just like he's kept her safe for so long.

As Anna walks over to who Mikoto has confirmed to be a brunet wearing the blue t-shirt with white stripes, (two of the others are wearing similar shirts but have different hair colouring), she casually picks Yata's discarded bat, and lets her eyes darken as she swings it round, adding that extra mental power she knows now how to control, twisting her hip as she does so for additional power. In another life, she would play baseball against the Bluecoats, always leading the RedHeads to victory against the team from SCEPTRE4.

Before her clansman can do a thing, the boss man's head explodes as she wails on the guys with the now flaming baseball bat, blood splatters flying across the room onto frozen bodies with wide-eyed looks. The men on the floor cringe away, shrieking and squealing as she seems to grow ten stories tall in their eyes, a veritable goliath.

It's not until she is on her knees, an enflamed bat now extinguished, slowly hitting away at the caved in thoracic cavity of the burliest thug, that Kusanagi reacts, plucking the bat from her hands and tossing it towards Yata, who looks at the blood and viscera drenched bat like he's never seen it before. Anna shrugs Kusanagi's hands off her, before scurrying over to the wide-eyed Mikoto, who at some point had lit a cigarette and placed it in his mouth. He hasn't smoked any of it though, and the ash from the tip breaks off right as Anna reaches out, catches it in her hand before it falls onto the woman's exposed arm, and throws it to the floor.

"Upstairs. Your bed. _Stay with her."_

He looks at her, deep into her eyes, before nodding. There has to be a reason for Anna to have done….this. Anna's eyes follow the pair out, as Mikoto steps over torn off limbs and into the gaps of blood pools, even as everyone else's eyes remain focused on her.

She takes in the sight, breathes deeply but ignoring the coppery taste that now permeates her throat.

"What. The. _Fu-"_

"I need the mop bucket, hot water, towels, bleach, the bottle window cleaner and black bags. Also, your phone Kusanagi-san." And into play came the life when she was forced to be an assassin.

"But I-"

"NOW!"

Those who can, move. Items are retrieved. One man hands another a towel, gesturing to the others face. She kneels on the floor, picking up random body arts and putting them inside black trash-bags. She slaps away any hands that dare try to help her with the bodies. Random internal organs slide out and fall to the floor with a squelch as slides the larger chest pieces into bags. Someone across the room throws up. She pauses in her task, looking to him, then Kusanagi, before saying, rather disgustedly, "I'm not cleaning that up." Someone else snorts at her remark.

Eventually, all the body parts that she can find are bagged, resting on a towel just in case any blood manages to escape. She looks at her hands with a sigh; it'll take ages to get the blood out from underneath her fingernails. And the dress is a total loss, as well as the tights and shoes.

She cleans her hands as best she can before picking up the cell phone resting on the bar-top. She dials from memory the number she shouldn't know and before the first half of his name comes through, begins to speak herself.

"The woman made it to HOMRA, but was unfortunately scared away. She was recovered, but not before others intercepted her in a nearby alley. She's been retrieved, but the attackers now require a clean-up team."

"….Anna-san?"

"Hai, Munakata-sama?" The bar fills with gasps.

"She is….well?"

"Mikoto-sama is with her now."

"Very well, how close to HOMRA is the alley?"

"The clean-up team needs to make it _to _HOMRA."

"Ah. Twenty minutes then. Ja."

"Ja."

She ignores the following questions, wafting away smoke as she mops up the blood from the tiled floor. When they were stressed, angry, annoyed, agitated, etc, the men of HOMRA tended to smoke. She's sure her observers go through several packs between them in the eighteen minutes it takes three vans of SCEPTRE4 members to arrive at HOMRA.

"What's the problem, Kusana-" The blonde woman, second in command under Munakata, pauses mid step, mid word as her eyes take in the sight. Two of her subordinates behind her rush back out to vomit in the gutters from the amount of blood in front of them. Several of them gasp, one or two subsequently gagging from the copper saturating the air.

Fushimi Saruhiko steps out from behind the blonde, eyebrows raised as his eyes glance up and down at Anna, then around the bar until they come across Yata still blinking slowly at the bat in his hand, then back to Anna.

"Well well _well. _Looks like _someone_ had fun."

"Shut up Saru!"

"I was just _saying_."

Anna hopes this is one of the timelines where Yata-san and Fushimi-san can get over themselves, find their third, and get to humping each other like bunnies. Various versions of her have different thoughts about the previous thought; some smirk, some smile, some frown. The eleven-year-old version blushes.

"Trash bags?"

"They were trash in life, so they were treated like trash in death. You might be able to find some useable fingers for prints; I'm pretty sure there'll be some unsolved crimes they were responsible for."

"Ah, thank you Anna-san. Are you…..alright?"

"Yes. Should I not be?"

Everyone looks at her with those words. She's holding a blood drenched mop, using it to prop herself up due to her exhaustion, after having demolished, (decapitated, _destroyed_), the five thugs using Yata's bat and some pretty kickass combat manoevers. And that was after passing out earlier and hurting herself.

"No, no. Just….no." Bluecoats begin grabbing the bags, carrying them out to the vans. Several of them, not just Bluecoats, blanch at the squelching noises that happen when the bags moves, as well as the faint sloshing sounds. Luckily for them, and the bar's floor, none of the bags tear open.

"Bloody Hell, Anna-chan, just what the fuck did you see?"

_K_

Red and green and blue. Children. Friends. Family. Weddings. Funerals. Murder. Rape. Sex. Love. Lust. Life.

_K_

"Everything."

_K_

**Disclaimer: **No matter how much I wish I did, I don't own K Project. If I did, trust me, things would be _very _different. (Ignore my waggling eyebrows and suggestive liplicking, you _know _those boys are hot, and I don't mean temperature wise!)

**Author's Note: **I recently clicked on K whilst doing that youtube link thing you do, you know, the 'recommended for you' thing, when I was looking up another anime. Can I just say, fucking kickASS!

I have a problem with Mikoto dying, as you might be able to tell, and as I think Anna might have. Obviously there are little hints to things I've seen happen in the anime itself, the 'red stars in the sky' being one of them.

As far as I'm aware, I've invented the whole idea of a green sword, of the possibility of a Queen. Obviously this is an AU, something that happens after the death of Totsuka, but before the death of another much loved character *cough*. And seriously, I do think there has to be something between Fushimi and Yata, that kind of 'I'm here, pay attention to me, let me pull your pigtails' kind of thing that Fushimi is always performing every time the two meet.

I don't quite know how old the characters are supposed to be, but as far as I can tell, the Kings are in their mid-late 20's, the seconds in their mid-late 20's, possibly early 30's, and their thirds, Fushimi and Yata, in their late-teens/early 20's. I guessed nine for Anna, because she's just so small, but for some reason had the idea she might be as old as twelve or thirteen, although she might be small for that age. I've expanded on the idea of Anna's power, for reasons that might occur in either an additional chapter or a sequel, as well as the many different timelines that Anna saw/lived during her vision, and yes, I might even expand on just _why _she gets that vision there and then.

Maybe.

But for the moment, this is as complete as can be, just something written after a few hours of K followed by boredom, which isn't my usual thing; my upcoming Narutoverse story has hit over 60k words and I've made plans for it galore, scribbling down potential backgrounds and family trees, as well as timelines. Stay tuned for that if you're thinking about checking it out, although it might be a while in coming. :)

As always, please submit ConCrit, or flames, or whatever you think this may deserve; evolution as a writer requires talking in every word from the readers and learning how to grow and develop from it.

**Author's Note 07/01/13: **Following Charmane's review and a bit of more in-depth research, I decided that yes, nine was the incorrect age, so it's now been changed to eleven.


	2. The Aftermath

Anna is exhausted, although with the day she's had, that's perfectly reasonable. She takes a look around the bar that had swiftly turned into the grounds for a massacre; none of the men paying her any attention meet her eyes, which is understandable, since to see her suddenly do a complete one-eighty in personality and beat ten levels of shit out of five guys probably wasn't on their to-do list when they woke up that morning. Hopefully someday they'll look at her like they used to. Hopefully.

She takes a look at her physical surroundings as best she can with her colour-blindness; there don't seem to be any stray drops of blood anywhere, nor any random internal organs or extremities. The bar is as clean as she can make it without pulling out the industrial strength cleaners, or suddenly becoming one of those cleaning women of extraordinary repute that have their own television programs and books.

None of the blood sprays had managed to make it as far as the bar however, so it was just going to be Kusanagi Izumo, the owner of the bar, who worried about that, although at the moment he was just watching her, smoking away at a cigarette. Any of the clansmen who'd been inadvertently hit by flying blood had long since left, most not without taking a few shots of something to calm their nerves after watching their Aka-hime, their Red Princess, go completely postal on those five guys she'd ordered them after.

Most of them will be left wondering for weeks, if not months, as to why she'd change her behaviour so suddenly.

For all that HOMRA is a gang (read: family), for all the various fights, the cuts and bruises and broken bones both given and received, for all the Lightning hits they've taken over the years in skirmishes with the Blue, death has only knocked on their door once. And that had been for the flu turned pneumonia turned hospital bed turned morgue turned cemetery.

None of them have ever killed anyone before. Her family still has clean hands.

Hers have long since been dirty.

Everything looks to be as clean as she can possibly make it, unless she decides to call SCEPTRE4 back and have them give the place an industrial-strength clean-up. A brief-image sparks into being at the stray thought; Fushimi-san, Yata-san, wood splintering everywhere, blood spraying on her nice clean floor! Apparently that's a no to calling SCEPTRE4 then.

Speaking of Yata-san, he hasn't left yet, although like her, he won't have far to go, since the two of them, along with Kusanagi and Mikoto, are full-time residents above the bar. He's sitting on one of the bar chairs, still staring at his baseball bat, literally watching the blood dry. He shakes once, twice, (this seems _familiar_) before he looks up at her with shadowed eyes.

"Oi! Anna-chan! What was all that about?" He looks her straight in the eye, and if she hadn't seen the various timelines where he's the most happy with Fushimi-san and Temari-san, she might have fallen into a little bit of romantic love with him there and then for that look. As it is, she thinks he could be one of her greatest friends right about now. She ignores the images of dying bodies in cold, rainy alleyways most fervently.

The others still in the room stiffen slightly, Kusanagi lifts slightly from the slouch he's fallen into. None of her brothers would ever be spies, that much is obvious. She sighs, _again_.

"Tomorrow, Kurasu-san. Tomorrow."

She makes her way to a nearby leftover towel, and stands on it before removing her shoes, the dried blood on the buckles making it somewhat awkward and grabbing segments of her once-white tights, manages to pull them down without inadvertently yanking down her underwear; that's a skill she'd perfected in quite a few timelines. She throws them into a trash bag, knowing they're beyond saving, and grabs the bag to take it upstairs with her; she'll put her dress in it later.

"Oyasumi mina-san."

Various mumbles follow her as she heads upstairs. Yata follows behind her, still holding onto his bat, although the blood has long since dried. A few seconds after the door to the private stairs shuts, Yata speaks again. Or at least he would have done, if she hadn't known what he was going to say and pre-empted him.

"I need to shower and change before I do anything Yata-san. If you give me your bat, I'll clean it off."

"Anna-chan, are you…..are you sure you're alright?"

She considers him quite seriously, thinking back to everything she's experienced over the last, umm, well, her sense of time is slightly screwed up now. Every sight, every sound, every touch, every feeling. Hands drenched in blood, breasts filled with milk, shovelling dirt into graves, stroking a child-filled stomach. Mentally, she's lived lifetimes, some short, other's long. Physically, she's still the same eleven-year-old girl she was an hour ago.

"I….No, not right now I'm not. But…I will be."

They reach her door, and she gently pulls the bat from Yata's unresisting grasp. "I'll bring it back to you soon, okay?"

She's though the door, bat and trash bag in hand, before she hears the muffled affirmative response.

_K_

She's shocked the moment she looks about her room, can't help but think '_this is all so childish'_. And she's right, it's a child's bedroom. Mostly. Even before tonight, Anna hadn't exactly been the most traditional of children. Where most children would have posters of pop idols or actors, she has maps. Local, city-wide, road, subway; it doesn't matter to her. Her room isn't filled with the bright pinks and yellows that most girls her physical age tend to desire; then again, since she's (mostly) colour-blind, she tends to have to take one of the clan with her when she needs something, and like most men, they tend to want to get something then get gone. Red and black are her chosen colours; those are two colours she definitely can't mix up.

The dress is hastily removed, dried flecks of blood flaking off with every movement. Urgh, she'll sweep them up tomorrow. No wait, she'd better do it now, before she steps on them after she showers. It only takes a few minutes, luckily.

She showers thoroughly, washing her hair twice to make sure she gets all the blood (and other supposed-to-only-be-on-the-inside body parts) out, and watches the pinkish water (and other miscellaneous detritus) swirl down the drain. The bat is swiftly scrubbed down, and _knowing_ she'll be going shopping tomorrow afternoon, she uses the flannel to dig into the little dents and clean out the bits of viscera. It's only when she tilts her face up towards the falling water to ensure there are no suds left and the water hits that she remembers she was hurt before her vision, mainly because the pressure against her face is making her head itch.

The pain is so familiar from several timelines that she sort of phases out; she leaves the shower, glides a comb through her hair, and dries herself off. It's only ten minutes later, when her hunt for her nightwear goes wrong, (they're not on her pillow, and for some reason the bed only has two pillows, one of top of the other, instead of three side-by-side) that she remembers that she's not twenty anymore, or not twenty _yet_, and she's not at her apartment in the city. She finds the nightwear of her eleven-year-old self eventually though, the trousers of a pajama set, and an old shirt of Mikoto's, imbued with his scent, that she'd traded the normal top out for.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, trying to summon up the energy to move, she gets several consecutive visions, each one showing scenes no longer than twenty seconds, even if they pour into her brain in the space of ten seconds. The green woman waking up to Mikoto looking at her and her freaking out; waking up to Mikoto looking at her and blushing; waking up to Mikoto looking at her and him kissing her; waking up to Mikoto looking at her and her kissing him. Into her brain they all flow, and in the time it takes for the optimal one to be noticed, she's out the door and dragging Yata, who'd just opened his door at the sound of hers, over to Mikoto's door, and barely knocking, gently opens the door.

Yata gapes at the sight that greets his eyes. Anna smiles widely, she'd known before coming in what she'd see in front of her.

Mikoto is in the middle of his bed, leaning up against the headboard. His green woman, his _Queen_, is still curled up on his lap, her head resting in the crook of his neck, breathing in Mikoto's scent. Anna can't blame her for sleeping so easily, especially after the day she's had; when she herself sleeps by Mikoto, his scent always makes her feel safe, makes it so easy to sleep for hours without end.

She doesn't shut the door, knowing Kusanagi is still going to come to see Mikoto, and instead crawls up onto the bed, kneeling by Mikoto's hip. The green woman stirs at the way Anna's body ever so slightly shifts the bed, causing Mikoto to lean slightly, changing the weight distribution. She breathes deeply, taking in Mikoto's scent; cigarette smoke and heat and something else, something distinctly Mikoto. For a long time, that was/will be her favourite scent. Yata is blushing at the scene that seems intensely…private, like that between lovers. Little does he know…

The woman's eyes flutter, her hand tightening where it clutches Mikoto's shirt, and she nuzzles deeper into Mikoto's neck, only to freeze when Mikoto stiffens. Eyes open wide, straight onto the Adam's apple convexing out of Mikoto's throat, which only becomes more evident as he swallows. Anna watches as her eyes dart about, only to focus on her own gently smiling face.

Freak-out crisis? Averted!

Anna smiles wider, which she knows will hurt, and as she winces, a concerned look crosses the green woman's face. Her hand lets go of Mikoto, stretching towards Anna, who leans forward, knowing what will happen. As a green glow envelopes her hand and then touches Anna's face, both Yata and Mikoto lean in. Kusanagi silently appears around the doorframe, after having finally managed to close the bar and send those with a permanent place of residence to their homes.

Anna revels in the (un)familiar cool feeling of the green power, as the injuries on her face heal; the skin seals itself up tight, the broken blood vessels no longer going to transform into bruises.

The mattress bends again as Yata near enough crawls across two sets of legs so he can get a better look at her face. He hasn't yet realised that he's leaning across Mikoto's legs, across the woman's. Anna relishes the look that appeared when he realised- that _will appear_ when he _realises_ that he's actually touching a woman.

"Sugoi!"

Yata strokes a finger down her cheek, and sure enough, there are no marks there anymore. A blush almost immediately starts rising up from his neck though; in his efforts to reach across to Anna, his other hand has been placed on the woman's thigh. Relatively high up, in fact. He's only just realised. He jumps back, nearly falling off the bed, and it's only Kusanagi coming up behind him that stops him from cracking his skull open on the bedside table.

Anna knew everything would be alright though.

"So this is my angel with crimson wings?"

Even as Yata blushes, Mikoto's eyes flatten into a slight glare and he pulls the woman slightly closer. Fingers spread across a hip and part of her stomach possessively. Ah, this is _that _timeline….Thank the gods.

"I…..you…..don't _say _such things woman!"

"Aww, don't be so _angry_ Tenshi!"

Distracted as the two are, it's only Anna who notices Kusanagi pass Mikoto the note from earlier. Not even Kusanagi notices the way Mikoto's fingers tighten ever so slightly on the paper, the way his gaze tightens on the woman. He leans back against the headboard, watching as the two play-fight in front of him with the contentment of a lion. It takes a minute or two, but eventually the content lion begins to twitch, as the soon-to-be lioness begins moving about on his lap.

Mikoto can't exactly help what happens to his body, what with the friction and everything.

"You two need to calm down. My lap is not a playground." Anna loves what happens next. It's one of her favourite memories of these two, out of everything she's seen.

The woman freezes, halfway into a lean to poke Yata in his ribs, inadvertently pushing her ass into Mikoto's groin, and slowly turns her head to face Mikoto, cocking her head slightly as she slowly, _deliberately_, rolls her hips. Mikoto takes in a shallow breath as she leans in, a part of him twitching in response, her mouth to his ear, and unheard to the other three, although of course Anna already knows what she'll say, whispers "But we could have so much fun playing together, Mikoto-_sama_."

Anna knows, but obviously can't see (unlike the other two), that a faint blush briefly crosses across Mikoto's cheeks. There is a sudden tenseness in the air as the two stare at each other, and as the woman licks then bites her lip and Mikoto's eyes fixate on the slowly reddening lip, Kusanagi, not yet blushing but swiftly reaching that point, deftly manages to pull Yata off the bed. As he tries to get to Anna, she suddenly darts forward, bidding Mikoto goodnight as she taps a kiss first on his cheek, his only acknowledgement a brief flicker of his eyes, and then another on the woman's cheek.

"Oyasumi nasai Hotaru-sama."

Distractedly, the woman replies. "Oyasumi chibi-hime."

Anna scurries out the room, followed by Kusanagi and Yata. The second the door clicks shut, there is an instantly recognisable surge of power, one that is tinged with an extra 'something'. Something tangy maybe, or spicy. She's never been happier to still be eleven; if she'd been thirteen or maybe even twelve, the power would have reacted with her hormones, and, well… The two men beside her flush, and she sees in her head the best outcomes, determined by what she says next.

"Kusanagi-san, don't call her irritating. Yata-san, go out the bar and go left for three blocks, the drinks machine there will restock your favourite brand of milk in six minutes. Walk, don't skate, but carry your board. And _listen_ to him for once."

The two look at her weirdly. She's more than slightly used to those looks by now; in fact, it sometimes seems strange for a day to go by without someone expressing their unease of her peculiarities.

"Go."

They look like they're about to argue, but another surge of power, followed by a long, low guttural moan has the two scurrying away. Kusanagi is grabbing his cellphone, number already dialing, whilst Yata has darted into his room, grabbed a jacket and his board and is already halfway down the stairs.

Kusanagi turns back to her before he enters his room, ready to speak. She just speaks first.

"The blue one. And the dark green jacket." He pulls back, slightly stunned, but nods, ready to speak again. "Tomorrow." This time he frowns slightly.

"That's going to become annoying very quickly." She can't help the giggle that escapes.

"I know." She definitely knows. "Have fu-un." She can't help the sing-song tone that escapes as a third, even greater burst of power comes forth and Kusanagi practically bolts for the stairs as his face transforms into a tomato. The dialled number remains unanswered.

She leisurely strolls into her room, and climbs into bed. The pulses of power that she knows most people will find either fearsome or arousing, but that she finds safe, lull her to sleep.

She is seconds from being completely asleep when a cool, minty feeling stretches across the air, swiftly followed by a hot, spicy sensation. She turns over and snuggles into her pillow, smiling.

The Red Sword will heal as the Red King does.

_K_

Yata and Kusanagi both inadvertently return to the bar at the same time the following morning. At nine am, the sun has been up for hours, both men have been properly up for at least two of the sun-filled time units, and yet they're both only just managing to get home for breakfast. Neither knows that the other was dropped off 'just around the corner' from the bar, although obviously they were opposite corners.

Kusanagi can't help but stare at Yata as the boy tries pulling the (obviously borrowed) shirt-collar higher, as though covering the hickies on his neck will change the fact that he has them. He keeps trying to tuck a backpack in a rather familiar shade of blue behind his back, as though the childish saying of 'if you can't see it, it doesn't exist' will spontaneously work.

Yata can't help but blush _and _stare; both of Kusanagi's arms are covered in scratches, the kind only caused by fingernails. _Long _fingernails at that.

Kusanagi sees where Yata's eyes have gone, and faintly blushes himself, unconsciously he goes to pull down his rolled up shirt sleeves, but stops mid-manoeuver, sighing. Instead, he taps himself down, and finding his cigarettes, removes one, lighting it with a practised flick of his aura, collapsing on the steps outside the bars main door, leaning against the wooden door. He _really _doesn't want to go back in there _just_ yet; who knows what he'll find. There is a moment of hesitation before he offers the pack to Yata.

Yata hasn't smoked a cigarette since Fushimi…since Saru, left HOMRA. After last night though….

The two of them smoke their cigarettes peacefully, until half of Yata's is gone, before either of them speaks.

"So, Fushimi-san then."

"So, Awashima-san then."

The pair trade glances, before wordlessly agreeing that it's too early, both in the day and in the amount of time since their….experiences, to be talking about it.

They finish their cigarettes in silence.

_K_

**Authors Note; 18th January 2013: **First draft of chapter two is up; yay! Hopefully it's as good as the first; if it wasn't, send me a review asking 'why not?' For some reason, I have the feeling that Yata is supposed to hate milk, but the idea with the pink straw wouldn't leave my mind, so this is now an AU where he likes milk.

Thanks to Temari's Angel for being the first to review the first chapter, as well as lilkitty and Indochine. Special mention to Charmane for helping me out with a few factoids, so if there have been a few changes in chapter one, you know who to blame for making me aware of the K Project wiki now! :D

More thanks to those who've added this story to their favourites: Temari's Angel was the first, followed swiftly by Yaana, Charmane, AyakashiJin, blauelucifer and Nanashi XIII.

Even greater thanks to those who added this to their story alert: Indochine, Charmane, Melmel Phase, blauelucifer and Nanashi XIII.

Hope everyone I've mentioned likes how the way the story seems to be headed!


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